Inoiki's entire body became cloaked in a brilliant sky-blue aura, his psychokinesis now coursing through every fiber of his being. His physical strength surged beyond its usual limits, enhancing his speed, precision, and reflexes to an inhuman level.
Gripping his sword tightly—its blade glowing with the same radiant energy—Inoiki bent his knees and launched forward with explosive force. The ground beneath him shattered from the sheer pressure of his movement, leaving a crater where he'd stood just a moment before.
He became a blur, reappearing directly in front of one of the advancing puppets. With a single clean stroke, he brought his sword down. The puppet's weapon clashed against his, but it might as well have been made of paper. The enemy blade was sliced clean in half—and so was the puppet itself, bisected horizontally in a fluid, seamless motion. Its pieces crashed to the ground in a lifeless heap.
Inoiki allowed himself a brief thought, eyes sharp with satisfaction. "Even sharper than when I tested this technique with a regular iron sword. Perfect."
With his doubts gone, Inoiki gave in fully to the flow of battle. He darted through the mass of puppets like a ghost, moving faster than their mechanical reflexes could track. Each swing of his blade carved through steel and wood like they were nothing—puppets were skewered through their chests, sliced apart at the torso, or decapitated in one clean stroke. Limbs fell. Sparks flew. And the cave echoed with the sound of splintering puppet parts and collapsing constructs.
Sasori's proud creations—his hundred-man army—were being dismantled piece by piece by a single warrior wielding both sword and will like a force of nature.
Finally, when only around forty puppets remained, Sasori halted their advance. Instead of sending them all at once, he spread them out in a circular formation around Inoiki, surrounding him from all sides. This way, they wouldn't be taken out in a chain reaction like before, and it would force Inoiki to work harder—cutting them down one by one.
Sasori knew what he was doing. He wasn't aiming for victory anymore—he was aiming to survive. If he could just prolong the fight, maybe Inoiki would begin to run low on chakra. That would be his chance to escape.
Because now, deep down, Sasori understood the truth: he couldn't win. Even if, by some miracle, he managed to defeat Inoiki, there were still Sakura and Chiyo to deal with. The odds were impossible.
Inoiki noticed the sudden shift in strategy and smiled faintly.
"Oh, I see..." he said calmly. "You're trying to drag this out. Hoping I'll run out of chakra, hmm? Clever. Really." He raised his sword slightly, letting the glowing blade hum in the air.
"I have to admit, fighting your puppets with my sword ... it's been fun. There's something satisfying about the rhythm of it. The clash, the precision... I really enjoyed testing this new technique against your army." His eyes narrowed, the amusement fading. "But let's be honest, Sasori—I've indulged you long enough. I let you use all your best moves. Gave you more time than you deserved. That was your chance."
His voice dropped into a colder tone as the sky-blue aura around him began to pulse with renewed intensity.
"Now it's time to walk the road to hell."
After his declaration, Inoiki raised a hand—and all of his blades shot into the air, floating high above the battlefield like stars in the night sky. They hovered silently, each one precisely positioned around the ring of puppets encircling him.
Then, something breathtaking happened.
One by one, each blade ignited, bursting into flames as though they were candles being lit in sequence. In seconds, the entire cavern was bathed in a fiery orange glow. Shadows danced wildly across the walls, and the heat from the rising inferno swept through the battlefield like a wave.
Chiyo and Sakura could only watch in awe, their eyes wide at the scale and beauty of the technique.
But Sasori—he was horrified.
"He wasn't bluffing," Sasori thought in panic. "He didn't use his full strength until now... This is the real power of Inoiki."
With calm but commanding intensity, Inoiki raised his voice.
"Behold... I call this move—Flame Meteor.
As his words echoed through the ruined cavern, the blazing blades rained down like divine judgment. They fell like meteors, striking the ground with thunderous explosions. One after another, the flaming projectiles tore through Sasori's puppets, reducing them to ash and shattered fragments.
(A/N: Ai Generated image in Comments.)
Around thirty percent of the falling blades locked onto Sasori himself. He had no time to think—only react. He unleashed every trick, every evasion manoeuvre, every technique he knew. His body twisted and darted through the storm, barely dodging destruction.
Explosions rocked the battlefield. Smoke and dust choked the air, blinding everyone within the cavern.
Then, with a flick of his fingers, Inoiki summoned a surge of psychokinetic wind. A powerful gust swept across the battlefield, pushing away the smoke and clearing the vision of everyone present.
The battlefield was visible once more.
And what it revealed... was devastation.
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